Growing Pains
by kelsuzanne
Summary: "I feel completely out of control and I hate it.  And now I have to wear these stupid new clothes." Katniss isn't sure how to handle the whole maternity clothing thing...
1. Chapter 1

1

"What are you smiling at?"

I ask this, noticing my husband's mirth-filled eyes and signature smirk. With raised brows and a pointed look, he draws my attention to my midsection, where my belly pokes out from under my raised t-shirt. I'm suddenly irritated. _I can't help it that I'm getting fat- it's _your_ fault_, I think, and with a huff I stretch the thin material back down over my distended abdomen.

He chuckles a little bit, gingerly grabbing my wrist as I turn away.

"Come on, Katniss. I think it's cute," he says, and wraps his arms around me from behind. Sighing, I lose my resolve and lean into him.

"Well, I don't."

"Maybe it's time to get you some new clothes..." he trails off as I visibly tense up.

"I like the clothes I have."

"I know you do, but Katniss, you can barely button your pants anymore." He traces his finger along the bare skin where my pants, indeed, fail to close in the middle. I teter on the edge of frustration with him, but I know he's right- plus, the soothing circles he's now rubbing on my belly cause me to lose my train of thought. All I can manage is a half-hearted groan.

"Let me order you some from one of those specialty shops in 6. I think you'll be more comfortable."

"Only if you promise to stop laughing at how fat I'm getting," I pout weakly.

"Katniss" he says, softly, seriously. He turns me to face him. "You're beautiful."

I never know how to respond to that.

So I just stare at him, wishing I could be the kind of person he deserves. He leans in and kisses me.

"I love you," I breathe when he pulls away, "You know that, right?"

"I do. And I love you." He leans down and presses his lips to the curve of my belly- "And you," he whispers to the bulge.


	2. Chapter 2

2

"_What _is _this_?"

I hold up the most ridiculous-looking clothing item I've seen in a while (granted that it's been years since I've been to the Capital).

"How do I even.." I turn the thing over in my hands, trying for the life of me to figure out what should go where.

Haymitch has been laughing to himself ever since I opened the box that arrived on our doorstep this afternoon, but I'm about ready to throw him out, curtousy be damned. I glare at him, sitting there at the kitchen table with a half-empty bottle in his hand.

"Those are your new pants, sweetheart," he explains smugly, "Plenty of room at the waist. You're gonna need it."

I stretch the material between my fingers. Wearing these circus pants would mean admitting it, making it real. Tears spring to my eyes and I have to turn my back to my house guest. I feel completely out of control and I hate it. And now I have to wear these stupid new clothes.

Sniffing and running the back of my hand over my eyes, I return to the box and dig out another garment- flowing yellow cotton. It's a dress. I groan.

"There's a green one in there, too, if you'd like that better."

I turn to the kitchen entryway where Peeta now stands, his expression half-excited, half-wary. He knows I'm not a big fan of dresses.

"I was hoping you'd wait to open that until I got home," he says with a grin, crossing the room and coming to stand by me at the counter. He kisses my temple in greeting.

"Haymitch and I got curious," I explain, nodding my head in the drunkard's direction. He raises his bottle in a lazy salute.

"Do I have to wear these?" I ask, turning back to Peeta, holding up the pants with the thick elastic waistband.

"You don't _have_ to wear anything," he responds with a smirk, "but I think you'll want these, especially in the next few months."

"They look ridiculous," I scoff, throwing the pants back in the box indignantly, "And dresses, Peeta? Really?"

I know I'm being dramatic, but I just cant get a handle on my emotions lately. I stomp out of the kitchen to the tune of laughter from Haymitch and eventually Peeta as well.

"You're halfway there, kid," I hear Haymitch chortle, and Peeta glumly asks if he has any advice.

I know it's coming before he even utters the words:

"Stay alive."


	3. Author's Note

Author's Note...

I'm debating whether or not I should keep this as is (I do like short and sweet), or add on to it. Maybe... just maybe... some feedback will help me in making this decision? Let's try it and see, shall we? Okay awesome. :


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